The Letter
by Raven007
Summary: This is a short story about a character named Deja who belonged to the Sisterhood of the Blade.


-----Before I begin I should say that Deja was created in a lab to be the ultimate fighter. However, she escaped, and later joined the thieves guild The Sisterhood of the Blade. Oh, and she's crazy - sometimes.-------  
  
'Dear Essex  
  
Have you ever had one of those moments? You know the kind I mean… last three seconds of the game, scores are tied, you get a clear shot on net, then not even a mili-second after the puck leaves the stick, you know you've aimed too far left.? Well, yeah, I guess you must have.  
  
Anyway, I had one of those yesterday. There I was, being demented on a heist as usual… you know me, and I got a little carried away. O.K., so maybe it got a hold of me again… then again, it always does doesn't it… …'  
  
  
  
  
  
"Twinkle, twinkle, little drake," Deja sung quietly to herself as she picked the small lock on a safety deposit box, "what a good target you would make." She stood alone in the large bank safe surrounded by empty and over turned deposit boxes and various other nondescript items. The silver haired duck had been inside of the bank for only a few minuets, but already the place looked to be in utter chaos, not clean and tidy like most of her other thieving work.  
  
"Drakes are scum and drakes are liars," she continued as the lock popped easily open in her skilled hands. "They should all be set on fire." Having finished her song, the duck dropped the box noisily upon the tilled floor and knelt down to rifle among it's contents. "Diamond earrings," she muttered nonchalantly tossing the expensive looking jewelry behind her. "Gold key," Deja shook her head and sighed, sending the key to join the earrings on the ground, "passport, Jade dragon figurine, ruby necklace," all were carelessly thrown as the thief's irritation grew. "Why," she asked the boxes and few piles of items lying around her, "can't anyone ever put anything fun in these things?"  
  
Emptying out the last of the box's articles, Deja growled in indignation, then, protectively patted her already bulging pouches. So far, the nights events had lead her to 'find' some autographed comic books, a purple tiara, 2 antique rubber chickens, one diamond navel ring, 6 silver darts, and the deed to some ocean front property on a planet called Saturn. All in all, the thief was very satisfied with her catch. Sure she could have gone for the rare, jewels and paperwork, buy why? Tonight she was here to have a good time… maybe she hadn't been from the start, but now, fun was the objective.  
  
Seeing that she had looked through most of the boxes, Deja strode out of the safe's thick door and closed it carefully behind her. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the banks interior, the duck begin to gingerly pick her way through the toppled desk chairs and strewn items she had scattered about on her way in. Suddenly, the thief stopped dead in her tracks. 'A party is never really a party with out a little fire,' she thought as her beak curved into a slow smile.  
  
It was only a matter of minuets before Deja had cut the gas line that fed into the bank, and positioned herself on the roof of the building. Pulling a small match book from her pants pocket, Deja smiled evilly down it. "Do you feel lucky?' she asked the matchbook as she pulled a lone match from the pack, and drug it, quickly across the hard cement of the building. Flame burst forth from the small, cardboard stick, flickering and dancing the cool evening breeze. "Party, party, party…" Deja chanted quietly as she dropped the match eagerly into the hole she'd made in the roof. However, before she could react, the match caught the gas in the air and in an explosion to rival Pearl harbor, East Malland savings and Loan blew up like fourth of July fire cracker.  
  
  
  
"Oops…" muttered Deja groggily as she fought to open her eyes. The thief didn't remember much of what had happened, save for the large fire ball that had come at her and sent the young duck hurling through the night air at mach two. Although, as consciousness began to over take her aching body, a few more memories began to settle themselves into her mind.  
  
"Oops is all ya' got ta say?"  
  
At the sound of the voice, Deja's eyes flew open. Bright, blinding light flooded into her blue eyes, and she attempted to move her wounded body. Finding herself unable to do so, Deja started to panic, and to scream hysterically. "Not a lab!" She bellowed, thrashing from side to side, "not again!" The thief's throat tightened and her breath started to come in short wheezes, her feathers all tingled with fear. "No!" Deja squeezed her eyes shut and continued to flail, "Not again, not again… not a-fucking- gain!!!"  
  
Deja couldn't breath, her muscles screamed in agony, and then they were, flashing before her eyes in perfect Technicolor… … dark memories, evil memories… her memories… .  
  
  
  
-'…...The piercing wail of her screams bounced sharply off of the thick, metallic walls, and echoed throughout the whole of the nearly deserted laboratory. Deja had been screaming for hours, relentlessly attempting to rid herself of the agony that swam through her. Uncontrollable, tormenting pain filled every nerve and fiber of the little girl's being. She didn't think that questioning them could have caused them to make her to hurt this much. That couldn't be why. But, then what was the reason that such a young child had to feel so much pain?  
  
Crackling, electrical jolts coursed through the girls blood. With every zap, from the electrical output device, they increased in intensity until she felt as though it would be impossible to hold more with out dying. The poor girl's body convulsed furiously as her young back arched off of the thick, rubber bed that she had been strapped down to. A deep hum filled the large, dim room as the machine was held at the maximum level. Pain… torment… mind numbing, burning pain. Then, before her insides could burst, slowly, the strength of the jolts decreased, volt by volt, until none remained.  
  
Tears covered the downy feathers on her youthful face, and crimson blood dripped from her beak and ear holes, spattering on to the clean silver floor. Deja's breathing began to come in small squeaks and, short raspy intervals as the electrodes were removed from her feathers and skin by a tall figure wearing a massive, white rubber and latex suit.  
  
The figure looked down at the girl, however, the reflective facial covering that he wore prevented her from ascertaining the figures identity.  
  
With a curt nod, he removed the last electrode from her body, and tossed it into a bright yellow bin in the corner of the room. Purposefully, the figure strode over to a small column of metal shelves and picked up a tiny vile of glowing blue liquid. Using great care, the figure lifted a latch on a small, rectangular machine and placed the vile inside of it.  
  
A deadened fear coursed through the eleven year-olds body as she was lifted off of the rubber bed by two more figures dressed in white suits. With a mix of horror and curiosity the young girl watched as the bed she had been laying on was wheeled to the corner of the room and a small, metal gurney took it's place below her.  
  
"W...what..?" The young Deja's question was muffled by a small ball gag that one of the white clad figures pushed into her beak and latched behind her head. Overwhelmed by dread, and not wanting to face what was in store for her next, she tried to jump from the large arms that held her, ignoring the pain that this caused her petite body.  
  
With speed and strength, the shorter of the two figures managed to detain the weakened little girl and lower her down to the metal gurney while the other fastened her to it with thick leather straps. As soon as that was done, both of the figures silently left the room.  
  
No emotion was left in her exhausted body, her struggle had zapped the last minuet bit of her energy… she was spent, numb and nearly dead inside. Quietly, Deja slumped her head to the side and watched as the machine that held the blue liquid was turned on with the press of a large white button. It made no noise, but the fluid that had been contained in the vile, was now running through small rubber tubes the cascaded in, out, and all around the shining, silvery machine.  
  
A lone tear slid down from her bloodshot, azure colored eyes as the mechanism was wheeled over to her and a large needle attached to one of the narrower, rubber tubes. Giving a diminutive wince of pain, as the needle was injected into a vein in her wrist, Deja closed her eyes and swallowed down some of the fresh blood that was coming up her throat. 'Never again,' she vowed in silent vengeance, 'they'll never do this again.'  
  
Opening her eyes once more, she saw the toggle switch on the side of the machine being flipped from left to right and then the blue liquid began to move again. It was only a few short seconds before the girl felt the pressure in the large needle and the blue liquid course into her young veins.  
  
Squeezing her eyes to the pulsating anguish that was befalling her, Deja thrashed her head from side to side, though this time it was more from hatred than from pain. They would pay… all of them, the doctors, the trainers… everyone would pay. Allowing her mouth to open, the child screamed, despite the gag, not shrilly in agony, but roughly, in rage as pain and loathing enveloped her body again, and again, and again...' -  
  
  
  
"Hey, Deja..?" A young male voice questioned, "are ya' up yet?"  
  
She tried to reply, but her head swam and she was too weak to do anything but lie there and breathe. The thief felt something cool be placed on her head, then the voice returned.  
  
"Ya' really flipped in there… damn near killed yerself. 'Course ah guess ah shoulda known better."  
  
She'd had another panic attack, that much was clear to the young thief, but as to why… that she could not ascertain. And that voice… Deja knew it, she swore she did, but where from?  
  
"Ah'll bet yer a little confused…. Heck, Ah'd be too ah suppose."  
  
Deja felt a light poke at her shoulder, than another.  
  
"You up yet?" The mysterious, young voice questioned yet again.  
  
"Um-hum," she managed, taking a deep breath in and slowly opening her eyes. Though her vision was a little fuzzy she could almost make out the night sky above her. "Where?" she choked out, then began to cough roughly.  
  
"Here," said the voice again, "drink this."  
  
The coolness on her forehead was suddenly gone, as a small bottle of some type of brown soda was placed at her beak. In a flash she was gulping it down greedily. Her eyes slowly focused on the alleyway that she was lying in, as well as the stars up above and lastly, on her companion in the dark alley.  
  
He was young based on what Deja could tell with the oversized baseball cap he wore covering most of his face. The kid was maybe about 12 or 13, and wore baggy clothes, and expensive looking rollerblades. Though he looked at home, here in the ally, he didn't really seem a street kid type.  
  
"Ya' O.K. ain't cha'?" The boy asked leaning up against the wall, "when ah found ya' lyin' on the ground ya' looked pretty done in. Ah couldn't believe it was really y…"  
  
"Who are you?" The thief questioned darkly, attempting to sit.  
  
Cocking his head to the side in a dumbfounded way, the boy took a step forward. "Don't tell me, ya' done forgot yer old pal Traxx?"  
  
Her blue eyes widening in amazement, Deja sat bolt up right, "Traxx?"  
  
"Yep," he said proudly, "live n' in the feathers!" His words spoken, Traxx removed his oversized cap, to reveal an unruly mass of blond and green spikes, and big emerald eyes.  
  
Deja could not say a word, the last she knew of it, Traxx Delcanard had died in a gang fight on the streets of Ducaine Metropolis over four years ago.  
  
"What?" Traxx asked confused, as he placed his cap back on his head. "Ah save yer life, n' this is how ya' treat a man? Yeesh!"  
  
With a shake of her head, Deja slowly tried to stand up, though at his point it was a lot harder than it should have been. "I just thought you were dead, old man."  
  
"Humph," He snorted indignantly at the thought, "it'll take more n' a gang a' thugs ta' kill me!"  
  
"Clearly. Glad to hear it."  
  
Traxx then bladed over to Deja and looked her up and down, "Damn, lady ya' done got finer with age." With an award winning smile, Traxx placed his hand on Deja's arm and helped her to her feet.  
  
Looking down at him, she smirked and arched an eyebrow, "thanks, I try to work out." It was then that something occurred to Deja. It was as if she had been smacked with a magnum load square between the eyes. "What was that bright light?"  
  
"What light?" Traxx asked looking a little confused as he began to search the skies for bright lights and UFO's.  
  
"Earlier," Deja spoke slowly as she mauled over the events that had taken place earlier. "The light… when I woke up the first time."  
  
"The… first… time..?" Traxx placed his hands behind his back and looked at the damp dirty ground.  
  
Looking at her friends downcast stance, Deja swept a lock of her short, silverish hair out of the her face and sighed. "what did you do?"  
  
"Ah, may have done somethin' not so good," he stammered quietly.  
  
"Like..?"  
  
"Like hold mah flashlight up ta' yer face to try ta' wake ya'."  
  
"Traxx…" she began coldly, "do you have any idea what the hell you could've done? I should kill you for that!"  
  
"But… but…" the youth stammered nervously, on the receiving end of Deja's anger was one place that he never wanted to find himself. He needed a way out of this… … all at once something occurred to him, "ah get off scott-free!" he exclaimed quickly with a snap of his young fingers.  
  
Cocking her head to the side, Deja folded her arms in front of her, "and why is that?" She asked him in annoyance.  
  
With a smug expression on his 12 year old face, Traxx folded his arms in front of him and looked up at her. "Cause ah saved yer life, n' ya' owe me one."  
  
"I hate you." Declared Deja seriously.  
  
"Ah can live with that." Replied Traxx in an equally somber tone.  
  
The two then slowly began to walk out of the alleyway and onto the deserted street.  
  
"So, uh, why were ya' lyin' unconscious near a blown up buildin'?"  
  
"Traxx, I really don't want to talk about that right now." Deja was tired and more than a little cranky.  
  
"Is it that PMS thing?"  
  
"I DON'T owe you two."  
  
"Noted."  
  
  
  
'…Yeah, maybe it worked out for the best… this time, maybe. But who's to say next time it wont get me killed, or worse. This insanity is killing me slowly, it's like a monster that is always watching me and no matter what I do or where I go, it's always there.  
  
Then again, I guess it could be worse, I could be Traxx, a thirty year old trapped in a 12 year old's body. And you know the worst thing is he will never age, just die, a kid at age seventy. The lab did a real piece on him…  
  
I suppose your wondering how I survived the blast huh? I was lucky as hell. The roof was fire proof, and it saved my life. The flames went up through the hole I made and missed me totally. Everyone says by all rights I should be dead… sometimes I wish I was.  
  
On a lighter note, I managed to save the two rubber chickens I stole from the bank. I'm enclosing one for you with the letter… call it an early birthday gift.  
  
I have to run though, Traxx and I are going to go play some hockey… maybe kill someone, steal some candy from babies, whatever.  
  
Later,  
  
Deja' 


End file.
